“What was he doing on that boat, anyway?” Edie chimed in.
“I’m not sure anyone knows,” Tabitha answered. “We keep getting different stories.”
“Yeah, like the one about it being a sightseeing expedition so the assemblyman could learn more about endangered species firsthand.” Camille snorted. “I actually heard that he’s introducing a bill to protect the great white sharks that would more than double the current fine for hunting them.”
“Sounds about right.” Tabitha’s eyes rolled. “When Mark called with the original story they’d conjured up—”
“Wait.” The ingredients in Camille’s taco fell out the bottom when she perked up in her seat. She chucked the entire thing to her plate. “Mark called you?”
Tabitha had been tightlipped about her patients, but evidently, she’d also kept her mouth shut about that call. It honestly hadn’t even occurred to her to tell her sister. She’d had too much on her mind at the time.
“He did call me. A few days ago. Wanted to spin the story so Assemblyman Taylor wouldn’t receive any backlash. Asked for my help as Chief, which I promptly told him I wasn’t.”
Tabitha knew that look. The one when her sister’s mouth bunched into a tight pout, brows furrowing over her eyes. It was anger and frustration, with a note of sadness wrapped up in one.
“I’m sorry,” Tabitha apologized. “I should have told you that part.”
“No. No. It’s okay. I just haven’t thought about that man in a long while.”
“Because you’ve had another man to occupy those thoughts,” Edie pointed out. “A really good man who deserves all of your attention. Not that scumbag who apparently has no intention of ever changing his lying ways.”
Edie hit the nail on the head with that. Mark was a piece of work.
“His wife is due in just a couple more months.” Camille’s chest filled with a big breath she ultimately let out as a slow hiss of a sigh.
“She is, but we have an entirely different pregnancy to be excited about.” Edie smiled at her friend, but the one Camille returned was only half-believable.
Even though Camille had a good man, and even though she was going to be a grand-aunt soon, it didn’t discount the feelings she might be having over her past, and the future her ex had in store with his mistress-turned-new-wife.
“I’m excited about Hannah and Casey’s little one. Over the moon.”
“We know you are,” Tabitha acknowledged. “But you’re still allowed to be sad about things with Mark. We’re complex creatures that can feel an entire myriad of emotions all at once.”
“And speaking of emotion, how is Foster feeling about all of this? You never really said what he plans to do,” Edie circled back as the women gathered their plates and moved from the table to the sink to begin cleaning up after their evening.
“I’m not sure if he has a plan yet. I told him that he might not even be a match, and that seemed to temporarily take some weight off of his shoulders. But I know the man. He won’t be able to ignore this. He’ll go and get tested. It’ll eat away at him if he doesn’t. And I guess we just need to wait and see what happens from there.”
“Isn’t that quite a process, anyway?” Edie passed Camille a plate to dip into the sink basin filled with warm water and soapy suds. “What’s involved in that?”
“They’ll run some blood tests.” Tabitha picked up a dish towel and moved it through her hands. “Take a chest x-ray, things like that. Most of the time, they’ll perform an EKG and take an ultrasound of the abdomen. There are so many factors. Ultimately, they’ll need to make sure the liver is big enough todonate a section of it. At any point in this process, something could eliminate Foster as a donor.”
She said the words hoping they might provide a bit of relief to her sister. An out of sorts. But she didn’t get the impression Camille was relieved at all. If anything, this information only seemed to agitate her more.
“What doyouwant him to do?” Tabitha swiped the dishrag across a passed off plate, then settled it into the drying rack near the sink.
“I don’t know that I have a say.”
“You have a say,” Edie said. “You’re married now. These sorts of decisions should be fifty-fifty. Mutual input from both partners.”
“I disagree. Yes, I’m his wife,” Camille said, “but it’s his history. A history I wasn’t around for. And one Foster has to reconcile.”
“I’m sure he wants your input, though,” Tabitha offered. “I’m sure he values what you have to say about the situation.”
“He does. But at the end of the day, it’s his decision to make. His body to sacrifice. His forgiveness to offer.”
“You know, itispossible for him to do this without extending forgiveness,” Tabitha put out there.
“What? Giving someone part of your vital organ doesn’t suggest all is well?” Camille said, snapping.
